


The Second Cracked Head In...How Many Weeks? [Coda]

by california_112



Category: Inspector Morse (TV)
Genre: Episode Related, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, My First Work in This Fandom, Spoilers, The Secret of Bay 5B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-12-25 10:11:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18259187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/california_112/pseuds/california_112
Summary: Lewis should have phoned by now, if Gifford really had lived alone. After waiting another five or so minutes for the overture to end, and still having no call from his sergeant, Morse decided to join him, if only to see what exactly was taking him so long. Picking up his coat and the keys to the Jag, he checked the address by a quick call to the station, and headed over.-or-Morse is wondering why Lewis is taking his time at a victim's house, and decides to investigate.CODA TO AND SPOILERS FOR THE SECRET OF BAY 5B





	The Second Cracked Head In...How Many Weeks? [Coda]

[Mood Music](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AQOfIENN2tk)

* * *

           "Not a bad haul." DS Lewis made his way away from the crowd of officers to the side of Michael Gifford's car.

DCI Morse and Doctor Russell were looking through the victim's effects, but mostly at each other, and Lewis moved between them to start picking up the bags. Doctor Russell packed up her black briefcase and moved off without another word, short pink dress rustling with every step; Morse continued staring after her, but his sergeant ignored it, gathering up the evidence.

          "A bit more to go."

          "The computer says he was divorced, lived alone." Morse said, seemingly to himself, still looking after the retreating figure of the doctor. "Still, there could be somebody waiting up; I think there should be a visit."

Lewis sighed internally, he knew where this was leading. "You or me, sir?" he asked in a resigned tone, purely for the record. Morse looked straight at him for the first time, and Lewis just nodded. "I'll take a car, call you when I've finished." As he went to put the evidence in a car back to the station, he noticed that Morse was back to following Doctor Russel, and he wondered if there really was anything between them. However, he had had an idea of getting some time with the kids that night, so he dropped the bags and hurried to the car he was borrowing that day, taking only the dead man’s house keys and a scribbled address.

Lewis was more than a little annoyed at Morse for making him do this. It would have been much better for the DCI to talk to whoever was there, if anyone was there. Sometimes when people said they lived alone, they really did live alone. Hopefully this would just be a five minute not-even-in-and-out job, then he could get off home, nice dinner with Val and the kids for once. Anyway, whatever the outcome, Morse would probably say that he had asked the wrong questions or done the wrong thing, and come back with him the next day. But the Chief Inspector probably had his reasons, and all would be revealed in due time. Probably best to just get on with it and report back.

Fifteen minutes later he pulled up outside Twelve Riverside Reach, a modern looking building hidden from the road behind a tall white wall. So modern was the building that he had a little trouble finding the door; when he finally found the one floor-to-ceiling glass pane with a door handle, he knocked on the glass in the absence of a doorbell, peering through the blinds to see if any lights were on. However, he didn't have all night, and quickly went for the key ring, luckily getting the right key first time. Inside, he pushed his way past a blind, calling out to any occupants.

          "Hello?" Lewis peered around the room he'd entered into, stark white walls and minimalist light fixtures standing out through the gloom. "Hello, anybody home?"

First things first, shed some light around. A branched floor light revealed a kitchen in a side room, and a staircase down to another level, and he called again.

          "Hello?"

Still no answer, maybe he really was single; not everyone had a twist. Still, he'd better do the full check. The room past the staircase was completely dark compared to the floor lamp's warm glow, and he had to move towards it for his eyes to adjust. The sight that met him was one of destruction: what had once been an office was now a ransacked tip. Papers were strewn across the floor, the blind across the window had been half torn down, and a couple of knocked over table lamps glowed feebly on the floor. The desk had been rifled, chair cocked to one side and drawers with open; next to it was a smashed window where the assailant had clearly gained entry. Taking a couple of steps further into the room, he tried to assess the damage in a reportable way, already wondering if the two cases were connected. Significant damage to bookcase, chairs all over the-

WHAM!

Stars burst before his eyes as he cried out, feeling his hands instinctively rush to the bursting pain on the back of his head. As he staggered towards the floor,-

WHAM!

A groan escaped his lips as he slipped towards the carpet, head feeling as though it was about to lift off. Hazily, through the pain, he heard footsteps running, and the blind being moved. They were…escaping! He needed to get after them, bring them in, or at least report it in to Morse. With a monumental effort, and very little vision, he pulled himself over to where he seemed to remember the window being. It wasn't hard to find his target, most of the walls were windows, and as he felt something warm moving down his forehead, Lewis reached out a feelingly-disembodied hand, pulling the shafts of the blind down. The view outside was different, somehow, why did everything have rounded edges? But he just managed to see a vehicle moving, and a large one at that, some kind of truck. A truck? But how could he see that, when it was so dark? So very, very dark…

* * *

Still thinking about Doctor Russel, and their dance earlier that evening, Morse made his way straight home from the crime scene. Lewis's call was the only thing he was waiting for now, and while he waited he picked a tape out and put it on, relaxing on the sofa with his feet up as Wagner filled the room. A trip to the opera for both the Doctor and the Detective should go down well, he felt. As the music moved into a new section, he took out the tickets and looked at them, pondering if it was really Doctor Russel's thing. Maybe a dinner would be better, or maybe…No, the opera was good. Cultured.

Lewis should have phoned by now, if Gifford really had lived alone. After waiting another five or so minutes for the overture to end, and still having no call from his sergeant, Morse decided to join him, if only to see what exactly was taking him so long. Picking up his coat and the keys to the Jag, he checked the address by a quick call to the station, and headed over.

Arriving outside the building, he was hardly surprised to see a light on near the back, and chuckled to himself. Probably Gifford's lady friend talking to Lewis, he may as well intervene and do the questioning himself, let Lewis get off home to his children. Making his way up the drive, he had little trouble finding the door, as the large glass panel- this house was much to modern for his taste- was open, pushing aside a blind and going in, taking note of the tasteless modernism. The first thing he noticed that there were no voices, not even distant ones. Surely Lewis couldn't have already gone, and left the light on and the door open? No, something was wrong. As the kitchen was empty, and in the absence of voices, he looked around the house more generally. Unwittingly following in his sergeant's footsteps, he moved over to the adjoining room and turned on the light.

The 'office' scene had not changed much since Lewis had been there, save one of the lights had given up the ghost. As Morse slowly turned to inspect the damage, his eyes were drawn to a dark shape near the bottom of the blinds at the front of the house, and he moved towards it cautiously, conscious that it could be the burglar, hiding after the Inspector's abrupt entrance. However, as he got closer he realised that he recognised that suit, and the head of hair which topped it. Rolling the figure over, he was both relieved and more worried when he saw Lewis's face and the blood that ran down one side of it. The blood. Oh, no- Pushing his gut reaction away with a supreme effort, he shook his sergeant's shoulder.

          "Lewis." The named groaned a little, and Morse shook him again. "Lewis!"

          "S-ir?"

          "What happened, Lewis?" Morse asked, helping him to sit up.

          "I…I'm not sure, sir."

After quickly getting a glass of water, Morse returned to Lewis' side.

          "There was somebody else here?"

          "Yes, a…a burglar." A second of silence. "I came in, looking around to see if anyone was in, and then I came over to that mess." Lewis' hand waved in the direction of the mangled office. "I took a couple of steps in and then someone hit me from behind…"

Morse ran his hand over the partially blood-matted hair, and found a lump starting to rise. "We'd better get you to accident and emergency."

          "Sir, I don't think it's-"

          "Well I do, and I'm your Chief Inspector." Morse said kindly but firmly, helping his sergeant up. "Let's get you to my car."

          "No, sir, use mine, it's uh…just outside."

          "So's mine." Morse pulled the door shut after him and helped Lewis weave down the drive. "Your…uh…blood won't show up as much on the red interior."

          "I'm not that bad, am I?" Lewis was suddenly starting to sound different- out of character, and stilted.

          "Bad enough," Morse said, pushing Lewis into the passenger seat, "I'll call it in."

On the way to the Radcliffe Infirmary, Morse radioed in the burglary and also told Strange where he was taking Lewis. Afterwards he phoned Lewis' wife, and told her much the same; she agreed to meet them at the hospital, and they arrived a few minutes later. As soon as the situation was explained to the lady on the desk, a doctor was summoned within minutes and Lewis was whisked away into the bowels of the hospital, leaving Morse standing slightly bereft in the waiting area. Suddenly Val was by his side, looking more frantic than was necessary over such an injury, and he pointed wordlessly down the corridor which Lewis had disappeared into. Then she was gone, and the hospital was silent in the middle of the night, and Morse was alone. He took a seat on one of the hard hospital chairs, and waited, he knew not what for.

About half an hour later, the doctor reappeared and told him that they suspected a concussion, and were keeping Lewis in overnight just to check there were no lasting effects. It would apparently be better if Morse came back in the morning to see the full results, when the specialist was back at work, so More took the advice, driving back to his flat deep in thought. What had there been in the house worth stealing? It hadn't looked like a very expensive place, and Gifford hadn't looked to be a very expensive person. However, that was pondering for another time. Having no further reason to stay, Morse drove home, wondering if he could fit in another piece of Parsifal before bed.

* * *

Reasonably early the next morning found Morse back at the hospital, waiting in a small consulting room with Lewis. The sergeant was seated next to the Doctor's table, one hand massaging his head and eyes closed, whilst the Inspector perched on a radiator. Morse had returned to the hospital about half an hour ago to find Lewis sitting on the side of a bed looking bored whilst a doctor checked him over. As they had walked to the consulting room together, Lewis said that Val had visited again in the morning, but had already gone to work. Lewis had now got around to narrating the events of the previous evening as far as he could remember them, as he had a slight concussion.

          "…I got to the blind, and then I think- a van or something was driving off-"

At that moment the door opened, and a nurse came in with a large piece of x-ray film, which she pinned to the light box on the wall, flicking its light switch as she did so. With a quick "Doctor won't be a minute", she bustled from the room and closed the door. As soon as she was gone, Morse moved over to where the x-ray was being displayed, and Lewis stood up slightly to see the damage.

          "How are you feeling now, Lewis?"

          "Oh, a bit groggy, sir," Lewis replied, sitting down," not bad. I really appreciate you coming down to the hospital."

More looked around at him, his face a mixture of amusement and business, with a hint of worry in the eyes. "Well, it saves time, doesn't it?" he said, as though this was obvious,

          "You get the ok, we can press on with the job." Lewis rolled his eyes and shook his head a little, though it was still ringing slightly.

          "Anyway," Morse continued, putting hands in pockets, "you're a bit of a record-breaker now. Two cracked heads in er…how many weeks?"

          "Yeah, all right, sir." Lewis said, not wanting to bring this up right now.

          "You must have a skull like an anvil."

          "It wasn't on the same spot:" Lewis said defensively, "the first knock was here." He indicated an area at the base of his skull. "Last nights was there." He circled the top of his head tenderly.

The Inspector considered that for a second before continuing. "And you saw some sort of a- van driving off?"

          "Yeah. Some sort of van." Lewis tried to picture the silhouette, but couldn’t get more than a fuzzy blob. "Could have been." He finished in a puny tone.

          "Could have been?" Morse asked sarcastically.

          "Well, l was passing out at the time, sir." Lewis bit back, waiting a couple of seconds before changing the subject. "Burglar get anything?"

          "No." Morse replied, taking a seat resignedly. "There were plenty of valuables around; not touched. Maybe you disturbed him before he got going, unless he was looking for something specific." Lewis marvelled at how Morse could get on the case this quickly, slightly annoyed at no sign of a rest.

However, further conjectures were stopped when the doctor came in, and Morse showed himself out. He went to the corridor but didn't go any further, pacing up and down impatiently until Lewis came out, and looking around at the hospital proceedings with mild interest. Once, about to turn back, he spotted a familiar figure: Doctor Russel, taking to another doctor, and laughing. As they moved out of sight he was pulled from his reverie by the arrival of Lewis.

          "That's it, ok." Lewis said, as they started to walk. "The doc says I've got high-quality bone."

          "l told you;" Morse commented dryly as the doors swished open, "like an anvil."

With Morse suddenly deep in thought they together set a course for the Jag, hoping to finish the case without any more casualties.

**Author's Note:**

> this is a poor ass excuse for a fanfic but oh well hope you liked. also that was some lame ass title i am so sorry
> 
> on another note, i have lots of projects in the works, but im gearing up for some big exams right now, so ill be on hold until sometime in the summer :) hope yall will stick around till then, there are many (hopefully) good things to come :D


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